a shower, when he had no umbrella. The
rain ran down his cheeks, but the colour did not change."

"It is all the more disgusting," retorted Lamberti, illogically, but
with strong emphasis.

Guido rose from his seat rather wearily. As he stood up, he was much
taller than his friend, who had seemed the larger man while both were
seated.

"I am glad that we have talked this over," he said. "Not that talking
can help matters, of course. It never does. But I wanted you to know
just how things stand, in case anything should happen to me."

Lamberti turned rather sharply.

"In case what should happen to you?" he asked, his eyes hardening.

"I am very tired of it all," Guido answered, "I have nothing to live
for, and I am being driven straight to disgrace and ruin without any
fault of my own. I daresay that some day I may--well, you know what I
mean."

"What?"

"I should not care to exile myself to South America. I am not fit for
that sort of life."

"Well?"

"There is the other alternative," said Guido, with a tuneless little
laugh. "When life is intolerable, what can be simpler than to part with
it?"

Lamberti's strong hand was already on his friend's arm, and tightened
energetically.

"Do you believe in God?" he asked abruptly.

"No. At least, I think not."

"I do," said Lamberti, with conviction, "and I shall not let you make
away with yourself if I can help it."

He loosed his hold, thrust his hands into his pockets, and looked as if
he wished he could fight somebody or something.

"A man who kills himself to escape his troubles is a coward," he said.

Guido made a gesture of indifference.

"You know very well that I am not a coward," he said.

"You will be, the day you are afraid to go on living," returned his
friend. "If you kill yourself, I shall think you are an arrant coward,
and I shall be sorry I ever knew you."

Guido looked at him incredulously.

"Are you in earnest?" he asked.

"Yes."

There was no mistaking the look in Lamberti's hard blue eyes. Guido
faced him.

"Do you think that every man who commits suicide is a coward?"

"If it is to escape his own troubles, yes. A man who gives his life for
his country, his mother, or his wife, is not a coward, though he may
kill himself with his own hand."

"The Church would call him a suicide."

"I do not know, in all cases," said Lamberti. "I am not a theologian,
and as the Church means nothing to you, it would be of no use if I
we